


The Sex Pollen, Aphrodisiacs, Etcetera Pre-Negotiated Consent Form

by sirenseven



Category: DCU, Justice League - All Media Types
Genre: Awkwardness, Clark Kent is a proper farm boy and did not ask for this, Gen, Humor, Sex Pollen, Tired Bruce Wayne, except everyone's just talking about it, oliver queen is a delightful menace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:53:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24810370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirenseven/pseuds/sirenseven
Summary: Being Batman means ensuring the League is prepared for everything, including sex pollen consent issues. Somehow, Bruce believed he could cover this with an awkward but short briefing.He has regrets now.
Comments: 52
Kudos: 250





	The Sex Pollen, Aphrodisiacs, Etcetera Pre-Negotiated Consent Form

**Author's Note:**

> Did not intend to fill this [kink meme prompt](https://dckinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/766.html?thread=467454#cmt467454), but sometimes I accidentally make words. No warnings here (look at me!), except for general discussion of sex.
> 
> Bruce canonically calls Oliver Queen Ollie and I just wanted you all to know that.

“There is one more item,” Bruce said, as the League's monthly status meeting drew towards a close.

All eyes around the round, emblazoned table turned to him. The assembled heroes were impressive as ever, even after a long week, decked out in uniform under the bright lights. Bruce fixed his gaze vaguely ahead, glad the cowl concealed his averted eyes. He had been dreading this, but hopefully he could get it out quickly and efficiently and with minimal humiliation for all.

“Per the incident we nearly encountered earlier this week, I have drawn up forms to ensure any future incidents will be efficiently handled and not infringe upon anyone's consent. These can be logged into the computer records once they're filled out.”

He handed the forms around the table, to distract from the moment where everyone digested which event he was referring to.

“The pollen incident?” Diana asked, the last to receive a form. She raised her eyebrows at it.

“This is for—?” Clark started, and then cut himself off, cheeks darkening.

“Sex Pollen, Aphrodisiacs, Etcetera Pre-Negotiated Consent Form,” Arthur read. He looked up at Bruce, brows flat. “You can't be serious.”

Unfortunately, he was.

“It's important to be prepared for all potential situations,” Bruce said, refusing to let his embarrassment show. The cowl, and years of putting on a stoic face as Batman, helped him through. “In this case, that involves ensuring sexual consent is trampled as little as possible.”

He glanced around the table. Clark avoided eye-contact, as did Barry. Arthur remained unimpressed. Diana listened politely. Dinah and Hal were examining the forms, and Oliver already had a pen in hand.

J'onn had been unable to attend the meeting, which Bruce guiltily considered a bonus; the only thing that could make this more uncomfortable was a telepath who may or may not even have human-relatable sex drive and genitalia. He would send J'onn the explanation later. The Martian, at least, could be counted upon to respond to messages. If the entire process was unnecessary for him, all the better.

“Therefore,” Bruce continued, “everyone will need to fill out a list of acceptable partners should the necessity arise. You will need at least three options, including at least one core member of the League. You may list more if you like. Please include their contact information if it is not already known to us.”

“Hang on,” Arthur said, frown deepening. “Why must we include a member of the League? I have a wife; isn't that enough?”

Bruce breathed deeply. If everyone could just do as he instructed at all times and never question him, life would be so much easier. (He pointedly forgot any occasion when someone had been right to question him.)

“There may be circumstances where your first choice is unavailable, but intercourse must occur within a limited amount of time, including many potential circumstances where fellow League members are the only ones around,” he said. After a beat, he added, “You can list your options in order of preference.”

Arthur didn't look happy about it, but he was at least appeased by the explanation.

“If there are certain situations in which your preference order would change, there is space to note that as well,” Bruce continued. “You will also need to preemptively confirm consent with those you write down to ensure no issues. Obviously this is a responsibility none of us would like to take on, but I ask you all to put awkwardness aside wherever possible to ensure the system works.”

“Speak for yourself,” said Ollie, craning over to sneak peaks at Dinah's form. “You're writing me down, right?”

Dinah turned her paper towards him, on which she had written, in block letters as her first option, 'Green Asshole.'

“That's all I wanna know,” Ollie said, backing off with a grin. He flipped his own page to reveal a matching 'Black Canary' surrounded with lopsided hearts and vague scribbles.

“Are those supposed to be fish?” Hal asked, squinting.

“They're canaries,” said Ollie.

“They look like fish.”

“Well, they're not. Wait, hang on—'Green Asshole' isn't going to get confused with Hal, right?”

“I think we'll all be able to guess her intention should we forget,” said Diana.

“Wow,” said Hal, looking at Ollie with fake offense, “and here I was gonna put you down.”

“Aw, buddy, I'm touched,” said Ollie. “That would be before Barry, right?”

Barry looked up from the other side of the table, opening his mouth.

“As I was saying,” Bruce interrupted loudly. “You will need to preemptively confirm consent, which you may do _privately_. Those of you with significant others will also likely want to speak with them in advance of any potential situation. Furthermore, below the contacts you will see a space to list kinks, turn-offs—”

“Kinks?” Diana asked, brow creasing at the term. Unlike most of the table, she was neither gleefully enjoying herself nor burrowing in shame, but politely listening to the briefing. At least Bruce had one.

“Stuff you're into during sex,” Barry explained.

“Like bondage and whips,” Ollie said.

“Or gentle sex and praise, if you're not a masochist,” Dinah added.

“Oh, that reminds me.” Ollie ducked down to write again, narrating loudly as if just to compound Bruce's migraine. “Dinah...calling...me...names.”

Hal peered over. “Is that a kink or a turn-off?”

“You have to ask?” Ollie grinned.

“I would like to know so much less about you,” said Barry.

“And hard limits,” Bruce finished belatedly. “Kinks, turn-offs, and hard limits, which everyone _will_ comply with unless the situation makes it entirely impossible.” He gave a firm look around the table though, for all their childish joking, Bruce didn't expect anyone here to impinge on that rule.

“You do not need to write anything down for those,” he continued, “but if you don't have something written, it will be assumed you have neutral feelings towards it. If you aren't sure if you should write something down, write it down just in case. There is an extra space for miscellaneous notes or concerns. Are there any further questions?”

“Yes,” mumbled Clark, face as red as his cape and buried in his hands. “Are we done yet?”

“Hey, so, uh,” said Barry, “if I go all superspeed on sex pollen, will you help me through it, Supes?”

Clark pulled up with a sharp breath. His blush had not dimmed in the slightest. “Say, remember how we were all going to have those conversations privately?”

Oliver snorted. “Think you're about to get turned down by Superman, Allen.”

“Bite your tongue, Queen.”

“Just write me down,” Clark muttered, muffled in his hands once more.

“I have a question,” Ollie said, and Bruce was going to have a Pavlovian migraine response every time he heard Oliver's voice from here on out. “Mind if I stick you down as a contingency, Bats?”

Bruce stared at the ceiling, counting backwards from one hundred by sevens.

“You did say we should all put awkwardness aside to make sure the system works,” Hal chimed in. “Gotta follow your own rules.”

Correction: Bruce was going to have a Pavlovian migraine response every time he heard Oliver _or_ Hal speak from now on. Although he was already halfway there for Hal anyway.

“I also said,” Bruce started in a flat voice, “conversations. To be had. _Privately_.”

Oliver gave a salute that would not pass muster in any military known to man. “Roger that.”

“Batman is your contingency?” Barry wondered aloud, and then immediately looked like he rued voicing it.

Oliver shrugged. “I mean, not my first contingency. As you'll see here...”

Bruce had regrets. Bruce had so many regrets. He should have sent this out as an email; he just knew that half the League neglected to read those if they weren't urgent. Somehow, he had expected that the meeting would be an uncomfortable briefing, and then everyone would go off separately to fill out their forms in privacy and shame, as Bruce intended to.

The fact that he had not foreseen this circus was severely undercutting his reputation of preparedness. At least he could count on Clark and Diana for some semblance of professionalism, and Arthur's surliness was working in his favor for once.

Well, perhaps not Clark, who looked half a second from sinking into the ground. He and Bruce were the only ones not currently examining their forms.

The sound of his name pulled Bruce's attention. A mistake, clearly.

“By the way, Bats,” Oliver said, “do you keep the cowl on during sex?”

Bruce stared at him flatly.

“I'm just asking in case I should list that under turn-offs.”

Bruce did not respond. 

“You know, I'll write it down just to be safe. See? I can follow instructions.”

“Stop talking,” Bruce tried, exhausted.

“Not that one.” Oliver smiled. For all his chatter, he had somehow multitasked enough to be nearly done with his form. “And you can't put 'Oliver talking' under hard limits, because we both know that's bullshit. You gotta respect the system, Bats.”

Bruce very nearly said he would put it under turn-offs instead, before reminding himself it would only encourage him. Banter with Ollie was a losing game, and Batman had a stoic reputation.

Besides, Oliver was right. He _did_ need to respect the system, especially since he had created it. Bruce could only write genuine turn-offs and limits, to ensure it all worked as intended. Although he, unlike his chattier colleagues, would be having his uncomfortable conversations without an audience.

The fact that those calling out their answers now seemed to have no discomfort at all was irritating.

“Hey,” Hal said, looking up with a grin (do not strangle the Lantern; do not strangle the Lantern), “who are you putting down, Bats?”

“You can all scan your forms into the system when you're done,” said Bruce. “Meeting concluded.”


End file.
